The Old Man in the Corner eBook

“You remember that it was Percival who remained
beside his father and carried him up to his room.
Where was Murray throughout that long and painful
day, when his father lay dying—­he, the idolised
son, the apple of the old man’s eye? You
never hear his name mentioned as being present there
all that day. But he knew that he had offended
his father mortally, and that his father meant to
cut him off with a shilling. He knew that Mr.
Wethered had been sent for, that Wethered left the
house soon after four o’clock.

“And here the cleverness of the man comes in.
Having lain in wait for Wethered and knocked him on
the back of the head with a stick, he could not very
well make that will disappear altogether. There
remained the faint chance of some other witnesses
knowing that Mr. Brooks had made a fresh will, Mr.
Wethered’s partner, his clerk, or one of the
confidential servants in the house. Therefore
a will must be discovered after the old man’s
death.

“Now, Murray Brooks was not an expert forger,
it takes years of training to become that. A
forged will executed by himself would be sure to be
found out—­yes, that’s it, sure to
be found out. The forgery will be palpable—­let
it be palpable, and then it will be found out, branded
as such, and the original will of 1891, so favourable
to the young blackguard’s interests, would be
held as valid. Was it devilry or merely additional
caution which prompted Murray to pen that forged will
so glaringly in Percival’s favour? It is
impossible to say.

“Anyhow, it was the cleverest touch in that
marvellously devised crime. To plan that evil
deed was great, to execute it was easy enough.
He had several hours’ leisure in which to do
it. Then at night it was simplicity itself to
slip the document under the dead man’s pillow.
Sacrilege causes no shudder to such natures as Murray
Brooks. The rest of the drama you know already—­”

“But Percival Brooks?”

“The jury returned a verdict of ‘Not guilty.’
There was no evidence against him.”

“But the money? Surely the scoundrel does
not have the enjoyment of it still?”

“No; he enjoyed it for a time, but he died,
about three months ago, and forgot to take the precaution
of making a will, so his brother Percival has got
the business after all. If you ever go to Dublin,
I should order some of Brooks’ bacon if I were
you. It is very good.”

CHAPTER XXIV

AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE

“Do you care for the seaside?” asked the
man in the corner when he had finished his lunch.
“I don’t mean the seaside at Ostend or
Trouville, but honest English seaside with nigger
minstrels, three-shilling excursionists, and dirty,
expensive furnished apartments, where they charge
you a shilling for lighting the hall gas on Sundays
and sixpence on other evenings. Do you care for
that?”